Page:Sons and Lovers, 1913, Lawrence.djvu/133

Rh “Go to bed, Gyp,” he said to his girl. “We won’t keep mater waiting.”

“Annie has left the candle burning, Lily,” said Mrs. Morel; “I think you will see.”

“Yes, thank you. Good-night, Mrs. Morel.”

William kissed his sweetheart at the foot of the stairs, and she went. He returned to the kitchen.

“Can’t you trust us, mother?” he repeated, rather offended.

“My boy, I tell you I don’t believe in leaving two young things like you alone downstairs when everyone else is in bed.”

And he was forced to take this answer. He kissed his mother good-night.

At Easter he came over alone. And then he discussed his sweetheart endlessly with his mother.

“You know, mother, when I’m away from her I don’t care for her a bit. I shouldn’t care if I never saw her again. But, then, when I’m with her in the evenings I am awfully fond of her.”

“It’s a queer sort of love to marry on,” said Mrs. Morel, “if she holds you no more than that!”

“It is funny!” he exclaimed. It worried and perplexed him. “But yet—there’s so much between us now I couldn’t give her up.”

“You know best,” said Mrs. Morel. “But if it is as you say, I wouldn’t call it love—at any rate, it doesn’t look much like it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, mother. She’s an orphan, and——”

They never came to any sort of conclusion. He seemed puzzled and rather fretted. She was rather reserved. All his strength and money went in keeping this girl. He could scarcely afford to take his mother to Nottingham when he came over.

Paul’s wages had been raised at Christmas to ten shillings, to his great joy. He was quite happy at Jordan’s, but his health suffered from the long hours and the confinement. His mother, to whom he became more and more significant, thought how to help.

His half-day holiday was on Monday afternoon. On a Monday morning in May, as the two sat alone at breakfast, she said:

“I think it will be a fine day.”

He looked up in surprise. This meant something.